I Am Lassiter
by Collegekid2006
Summary: Okay, so writing Shawn's journal was so much fun, how could I not write one for Lassie?
1. Chapter 1

**June 21**

Let me make this abundantly clear.

I don't have to prove anything to you.

I have an impeccable service record, I passed every psych eval at the Academy with flying colors (if you don't count the one jerk who claimed I was "intense and creepy"), and I have eight commendations for valor.

I also won the Santa Barbara Police Department chili cook-off three years in a row.

Bottom line: I don't give a damn what you think about my mental stability.

In fact, I don't give a damn what you think about anything.

And you can quote me on that in whatever little report you're filling out.

-C. Lassiter, Head Detective SBPD

**June 22**

This is a complete and utter waste of my time, not to mention valuable police resources. I hope you lousy bean-counters are happy.

Go count your damn beans somewhere else and leave me alone.

Some of us have actual jobs to do.

- C. Lassiter, Head Detective SBPD

**June 23**

I know Spencer's been stealing my Power Bars. I don't care what he says, Power Bars do not spontaneously combust. They also don't "run away in fear".

It wouldn't piss me off so much that he steals them, but he leaves the wrappers on my desk. Just to taunt me.

One of these days, I'm going to nail his skinny, annoying butt to the wall.

I can't wait. It's the only thought that gets me through the day.

- C. Lassiter, Head Detective SBPD

**June 24**

O'Hara closed her first solo case today.

Of all the partners I've had the Department cram down my throat, I have to admit she is one of the more competent, less irritating ones. Most of the time.

In fact, her one glaring flaw is that she seems to be able to endure Spencer. God only knows why.

When this is finally my precinct, she might one day work her way up to Head Detective.

Of course, she'll have to stop smiling like an idiot all the time.

Head Detectives don't smile.

Why can't she seem to grasp that?

-C. Lassiter, Head Detective, SBPD

**June 25**

I don't know how he does it! My Power Bar was hidden inside my three hole punch, which was locked inside my center desk drawer, which was hooked up to an alarm. And yet Spencer still somehow managed to get it!

It might almost be impressive if it wasn't so damn infuriating.

Not to mention a misdemeanor.

Is there no one else he can harass? Are there no cases besides mine he can stick his nose in? Are there no other chops for him to bust?

And what is the deal with him and pineapples, anyway?

That last one doesn't actually have anything to do with him being obnoxious. I've just always wondered…

-C. Lassiter

**June 26**

I didn't see this one coming.

I'm blindsided. Pissed. Enraged…take your pick.

There's a mole in the Department.

It's classified information, so I probably shouldn't even be writing this (God knows I don't want to be…I still hate you, bean counters), but I don't know what else to do.

The Chief told me and O'Hara today. We're the only two in the entire department who know, but someone on the Force has been tipping off local drug dealers before we raid them, giving them just enough time to beat it before we nab them. I don't know how the Chief knows, but as of this moment, everyone in uniform is a suspect. Every uniform is dirtied until we find the scumbag.

I hope I find them first.

I hope we're in a dark alley.

I hope they pull their gun first.

-C. Lassiter

**June 27**

I don't care what the Chief says, this is a mistake. There's no way in hell Spencer should be on this case! But she's still buying his little Psychic song and dance; hook, line and sinker. Plus, she thinks he's an impartial outside observer.

Apparently it never occurred to her that if he was a real psychic (and I do emphasis the word IF), he'd be the prime suspect. Who better to tip off lowlifes about busts than someone who works for the Department and can see the future? If I actually believed his "powers" for a moment, his butt would already be in interrogation.

Hell, maybe I should interrogate him, anyway. Just for fun.

Just to see him sweat for a change.

At the very least, I'll make him admit he stole my Power Bars!

-C. Lassiter


	2. Chapter 2

**June 28**

Journal Insert 1A

Official Police Transcript, Interrogation 1456SSP

Names have been blacked out

DETECTIVE: Take a seat, XXXXXXX.

SUSPECT: Awww, thanks for the concern, but I'm fine standing. If you really want to be helpful, you could be a lamb and grab me a smoothie. Extra whipped cream.

DETECTIVE: Shut up!

SUSPECT: No whipped cream, then? Is someone watching their waistline?

DETECTIVE: Are you going to cooperate, or am I going to have to get my taser?

SUSPECT: Isn't there usually a good cop character in this bit? Where is XXXXX, anyway? She'd get me a smoothie.

DETECTIVE: Sit down and shut up! I'm asking the questions.

SUSPECT: You are?

DETECTIVE: Yes!

SUSPECT: Are you sure?

DETECTIVE: Stop that!

SUSPECT: Stop what?

DETECTIVE: Stop asking questions!

SUSPECT: Why?

DETECTIVE: Because pissing off a cop is a felony.

SUSPECT: No, it's not. XXXXX, you fibbed! I'm hurt! Why would you lie to me?

DETECTIVE: You're the master psychic. You tell me.

SUSPECT: Because you're secretly in love with me? Because every time you see me, your heart beats just a little faster?

DETECTIVE: That's it. I'm getting my taser.

SUSPECT: Oh! Can I get one, too?

DETECTIVE: No.

SUSPECT: It's just rude to not bring enough to share with everyone.

DETECTIVE exits room.

SUSPECT: I'd share my smoothie with you! I'd go halvesies!

Long pause.

SUSPECT: You're still getting me my smoothie, right?

**June 29**

Another bust ruined by the mole.

But I can't think about that right now. I have bigger problems.

I have a…something… tonight.

Never mind.

I don't want to talk about it.

**June 30**

Prime Suspects:

Donnell, Brendan K.—Sergeant, has shifty eyes. Stole my coffee once, claimed it was an accident. Clearly a sociopath.

Troy, Brent D.—New to the force, beat cop. Don't know him. Don't want to. Smells like cabbage soup.

Young, Daniel M.—Joined with Brent. Don't know him, either. Asked me once if arrest had one 'r' or two. Clearly a moron.

**July 1**

Had a second…whatever…with…whoever.

It's not going to work out.

When O'Hara brings coffee in the morning, they never give me enough creams on the side, so she gives me hers.

My…whatever…last night wouldn't give me hers. She wanted them.

Sure, I could have just asked the waitress for more, but that's not the point now, is it?


	3. Chapter 3

**July 2**

TO DO:

- Buff pistol for battle next weekend

- Buy wig glue

- Soak buttons

- Get new cell phone (Note: never give out the new number on a first…..I don't want to talk about it.)

**July 3**

God, is there anything worse on this planet than a perky optimist? What do you have to be smoking to honestly believe that life is nothing but champagne and roses? I've got news for you, you tree-hugging morons. The champagne is over-priced and waterd-down and the roses do nothing but attract bees before they shrivel up and die.

In short, another lousy night. At least I won't have to get a new cell phone this time.

You'd think I'd be used to this kind of soul-killing ignorace by now. I mean, O'Hara is practically the Treasurer of the Idiot's Guild of Boundless Optimists. Yet, somehow...I just can't hate her for that.

God knows I've tried.

**July 4**

Number of drunk jackasses who started fires trying to set off their own fireworks: 7

Number of drunk jackasses who ended up in the ER trying to set off their own fireworks: 5

Number of hours I wasted today booking said drunk jackasses: 13.

Happy Fourth of July.

**July 5**

I swear if Helms screws up the battle on Saturday, I'll kill him.

How hard is it to fall off a horse?

Honestly.

You just fall.

Gravity does most of the work.

I'd fire him now from the reenactment, but he's a volunteer.

And they don't let me do that anymore.

**July 6**

A new break.  
The mole screwed up.  
Big time.

So far, according to the Chief, he's been using an untraceable cell phone to make the calls to the dealers. Today, for the first time, he used a precinct phone.

O'Hara's.

O'Hara's not a suspect, of course. What kind of moron would she have to be to use her own phone? It does mean that this SOB sat across from _my_ desk in _my_ precinct and used _my_ partner's phone to betray everything the uniform stands for.

If it wasn't personal before, it sure as hell is now. 

**  
July 7**

O'Hara's gone.  
Suspended until the case is over.  
Damn D.A.  
Damn I.A.B.  
Damn Vick.

They don't think she's in on it. They can't! She has two cats and an antique doll collection, for God's sake. They just threw her to the wolves to cover their own asses.

I have to catch this guy. Now.

Which means...

God, I hate myself for even thinking this.

I have to call Spencer.


	4. Chapter 4

**July 8**

I have officially scraped the bottom of the very last barrel in Santa Barbara.

Note: Tomorrow, delete profile.

**July 9**

I knew it was a mistake. I knew I shouldn't have called Spencer to help me out on this one.

It's been less than two days, and I already want to shoot him.

Or myself.

Mostly him.

He hasn't made any strides in the case at all. All he's done is piss me off. O'Hara's still suspended, the mole is still walking around in a uniform, and now that my Power Bar has "mysteriously" gone missing, I don't even have my afternoon snack.

Maybe I _will_ shoot him.

No jury would convict. Not after I told them about the Power Bars.

**July 10**

Finally, a break in the case.

A bad one.

Forensics traced the cell phone. The one the mole used to tip off the dealers before we busted them. It's a prepaid number connected to O'Hara's savings account.

She is officially the prime suspect.

The stupid kid. She's always been too damn trusting, too damn naïve. Too damn…happy.

The perfect patsy.

Maybe this time she'll learn. Maybe this time she'll finally stop smiling all the time.

**July 11**

Spencer flipped when I told him about O'Hara's cell phone.

Flipped.

I've never seen him like that before.

He still hasn't done anything actually useful, but at least he hasn't done anything annoying, irritating or obnoxious all afternoon. He's trying.

He even brought me a smoothie.

For purely selfish reasons, O'Hara needs to get framed more often.

**July 12**

The D.A. is out of patience.

I.A.B. wants this cleaned up fast.

They finally told Vick to arrest O'Hara.

Strange thing about that, though.

O'Hara's gone.

Vanished.

Almost like she knew what was coming and got out of town.

I wonder if someone could have possibly tipped her off….

It must have been someone brilliant.

Someone cunning.

I don't know where she could be, but she certainly isn't hiding out at Spencer's little playhouse agency.

I checked there myself.

She's definitely _not_ there.


	5. Chapter 5

**July 13**

I finally caught him.

It took longer than I expected.

He put up a good fight…just not good enough.

Of course, it turned out he was about an inch too short, so I had to throw him back.

Too bad, too. He would've fried up nice.

What? It's my day off.

**July 14**

O'Hara's still missing.

The Chief has a small-scale manhunt going, but she somehow keeps eluding them.

Strange, isn't it?

**July 15**

Okay, I've said it before, but this time I mean it.

I'm going to kill him.

Shoot him, maybe. Quick and easy.

No, no. That's a bit _too_ quick and easy.

I'll boil him alive in oil. That'll teach him. Police-issue handcuffs are not toys!

Also, it will teach him that it's really hard to unlock them when you're ankle is handcuffed to your chair and you can't reach it and everyone is laughing.

I don't want to talk about it.

**July 16**

I'm an idiot!

A complete and utter moron!

I should have seen it before.

Payroll!

Someone in payroll is in on this! They couldn't be doing it alone…they wouldn't have the inside information to tip off drug dealers, but they're in on it somehow.

When O'Hara first joined the force, she enrolled in direct deposit. Half her check went into her checking account, and half went into her savings account. The same account that is connected to the cell phone.

After a couple of mishaps last year, she stopped using direct deposit, so it didn't occur to her until today that her information would still be on file in payroll.

Not that I spoke to her today. She's still missing.

I don't know who in payroll it is yet, but I kind of hope it's that short one with the pointy ears who always smiles at me.

I can't stand her.

I've been wanting to put her away for a long time.

**July 17**

A strange thing.

Funny, actually.

Spencer had a psychic "flash" today. An incredibly detailed vision that told him…someone from payroll was in on the plot.

He came to the exact same conclusions I did. Almost word for word.

For once, I was a step ahead.

I beat him.

And that's not even the funny part!

The funny part is…now, I've got him. Cold.

I can prove he's a fake.

He didn't know that I…didn't…talk to O'Hara yesterday. He didn't know that I already knew about the direct deposit accounts. He thought he found it first. Which means…that's all he ever does. He just finds a clue first and pretends to have some sort of episode. Which means somewhere, there's proof. Somehow, somewhere…he left a trail. And I'm going to find it.

Right after he helps me clear O'Hara.

I guess I can wait.


	6. Chapter 6

**July 18**

We got him.

Well, her.

And him.

Both of them.

Once we started focusing on payroll, it all fell into place.

The short one with the pointy ears cracked like an egg once I got her into interrogation. She gave up her accomplice in two seconds flat. I didn't even have to be the Bad Cop.

The best part: Spencer had nothing to do with closing this case.

Well, he was there in the room while I interrogated her.

And he asked some questions.

And he "psychically" found the cell phone taped to the inside of a filing cabinet.

I still don't know how he did that one.

But I ran the prints and I cuffed them, so it's my bust.

**July 19**

O'Hara's back.

Perky as ever.

Worse, actually. Now she's…giddy.

Honest to God.

Giddy.

Worse than usual, even. She can't stop giggling to herself like a school girl.

She should be wearing pigtails and a pleated skirt.

Actually…

Never mind.

I don't know what the hell happened over the last few days while she was hiding out…and I don't want to know. But she hasn't learned a damn thing from any of this, that's for sure.

Except, apparently, that she likes pineapple.

That's all she had for lunch.

I've never seen her eat pineapple before.

**July 20**

Funny thing about police stations.

They have security cameras pretty much everywhere.

Funny thing about security cameras.

They see things.

Lots of things.

For example…things like Spencer…rooting through a file cabinet…minutes before "psychically" finding a cell phone in said file cabinet.

Now, I'm no comedian, but I know funny when I see it.

This is funny.

**July 21**

Holy Crap.

This is worse than I thought. I think O'Hara….dear God, I can't believe I'm actually going to say this.

I think O'Hara….likes Spencer.

And I don't mean she just endures him because killing him is still illegal.

I mean…I think she actually….likes him.

I'm going to be sick. Physically….sick.

He came in to pick up his check for the case today, and the second she saw him she started that ridiculous school girl giggling again.

"What? Are you the President of the Deluded Psychic Pain-in-the-Butt Fan Club or something?" I snapped, hoping she'd just shut up.

"No. He just saved my job. My career. My life, basically."

How's that for gratitude? I do all the work, and he takes all the damn credit! And the worst part is she's buying his psychic act! Hook, line and sinker!

She'll never learn.

At least, not until I expose him as the fraud he is. Once she sees the tape, she won't have a choice. She'll have to rescind her membership in The Idiot's Guild of Boundless Optimists.

She'll be a realist at last.

A cynic.

She'll be…me.

**July 22**

I was going to show O'Hara the tape today. I really was.

Strange thing, though.

It…disappeared.

She probably wouldn't have believed me, anyway. She'll never learn. If being framed didn't teach her, neither would proving Spencer's a fake. She'd just find some silver lining. That's the curse of optimism.

I guess I can live with that.

I guess I can live with her constantly smiling.

I guess I can live with her perpetual giddiness.

I guess I can live with her laughing all the time.

Sure it irritates the crap out of me…but I've endured it this long. What's a few years more?

Note- Don't forget to record the ballgame tonight.

There's already a tape in the VCR. Just hit record.


End file.
